


The Shape of a Life

by Veskittles



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Husker sure is a good dad, I don't know what to type - Freeform, I'm bad at tags, Lib and I worked very hard on this world, This is an Au btw, but that's not the focus of the story, it's about Husk damnit, oh there's mild Radiodust and Chaggie too, though this is a backstory to the main stoof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veskittles/pseuds/Veskittles
Summary: When life throws things at you, it's best to just roll with it. Who knows? It might turn out well in the end...Husk's backstory for Revolution AU/Liberte Egalite Fraternite ou Mort.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20
Collections: Liberté Égalité  Fraternité ou Mort





	The Shape of a Life

**Author's Note:**

> I'd greatly recommend reading Lib/Mega_purplezebracorn's The Sparks of Revolution before reading this. It's not finished yet, but that one is the main story for this AU, this is just Husk's backstory ahaha.
> 
> Cheers for reading! I hope you enjoy :D

One will never predict the shape of their lives. People may intend, they may plan for an eventual outcome, they may chase after an ideal. But the highs and lows will mould one’s life into a very strange shape, indeed.

Husker was young, barely an adult, but even he had an inkling of how the world worked. It was all a game of chance, and boy was he dealt some pretty bad cards. He wasn’t dealt the worst hand imaginable, but still pretty terrible. He was, after all, born as Weaponry.

In this kingdom, that meant he might as well have been cannon fodder. Worked to fight until the day he died. But by some insane amount of luck, he’d managed to dodge being sold into that life. Instead, he’d grown up in an orphanage, and he’d been blessed with a somewhat normal childhood.

The matron of the orphanage had told him to never show the Weaponry Mark that painted his back with an almost wing-like pattern, to never tell anyone what he could do. Intelligent as he was, he sensed the terror and urgency in her voice, and took her words to heart. And a good thing too, for as he grew older, he saw the ragged Weaponry on the streets being treated as if they were no more than a pig or mule. There was a point where he thought he were better than them, since he’d been able to lead such a peaceful life in comparison. Like his peers, he’d spared the Weaponry slaves no pity, not even a second glance.

As he watched the shape of his own life crumble at his fingertips, he realised how much of a fucking idiot he was to have thought of that. He wasn’t special, not in the least. He was just  _ lucky _ . And his luck had just run out.

He dug his fingers into the dirt as he propped himself up. He felt a broken rib or two, maybe even a broken leg. He tried activating his abilities, tried forming the familiar metal around his fists, but there was nothing left in him to conjure anything up. He would pass out if he tried. Or rather, he was so close to passing out that the only thing that was keeping him conscious was simmering rage.

He was surrounded by heavy boots, half-shadowed faces with sinister grins, and the sickening laughter of an incensed group. He would remember none of those faces in the future. He didn’t try to remember them. He only stared at one person, a man whose face would be burned into his memory for as long as he lived.

After all, it was difficult to forget your first love. And it was twice as difficult to forget them when they’re the person who ruined your life.

Husk wanted to say so many things. He wanted to ask why they’d told the slavers that he was Weaponry. It a secret he’d guarded for so long, and that he’d only disclosed for the first time to this person. Was it for the money? Did the secret disgust them so much that they had to be rid of him? Did they want to punish him for his feelings? His very existence? Both? He wanted to scream at them with every profane word in his dictionary. He wanted to curse them to the darkest depths, he wanted them to know  _ pain _ .

His former lover looked at him with such strange eyes. Husk couldn’t make out their expression at all, especially not with his rapidly fading vision. Before his consciousness was completely consumed, Husk only managed to say one thing.

“I fucking trusted you.”

~o~

He needed a drink.

Well, Husk always felt like he needed a drink. He’d especially appreciate one right at this very moment, though. It would do wonders in drowning out the memories of the screaming and the begging and the fucked-up laughter, at least.

It had been a few years since he’d been sold. He didn’t pay much mind to the price he went for; he honestly didn’t want to think about it. He was having a shit enough time without having the thought of the monetary value of his life hanging over him.

He supposed that he was relatively lucky once again, as fucked as that may be for a slave to think. He got clean and presentable clothes, a bed and decent food, though being treated like he was nothing took… some getting used to. But he’d eye the Weaponry who’d be made to sleep on the floor or even in the stables with the animals, and… well, safe to say, he knew a good deal when he saw one.

He’d become the slave of a rich merchant and part-time slave trader who’d made their base of operations in a decently sized town. Absolute shit-sucker of a guy who went around buying people of their businesses. And when he couldn’t buy them, he’d bully them. Husk’s tasks mainly consisted of manning the bar or doing some menial task of the other around the tavern. He’d grumble, sure, but he’d do what he was asked. He wasn’t stupid enough to fight the system.

But occasionally, if his owner felt like it, Husk would be used to… well, to put it bluntly, he’d be used as a fucking torture weapon. Anyone who was late with debts, anyone who wouldn’t let him have his way, anyone who simply didn’t rub his owner the right way… Husk would be be used to deal with them all. He paused from cleaning a glass to pinch the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t the person explicitly harming these people, he wasn’t the one throwing the blows. A Wielder would be using him, of course. But that technicality did nothing to comfort him. He was still the one who hurt people, it was his power that made them shriek for forgiveness that they shouldn’t be asking for. He was the one who’d deal the blow that went a little too far. He was still the one who was being handled and used and violated and- And he really wanted that drink now.

As Husk wondered if he could sneak a quick shot of vodka, his eyes were drawn to the entrance. What the fuck was a kid doing here? Taverns were not a place for kids to just casually stroll into. Skinny kid was basically a baby. He followed the kid with sharp eyes, partially to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble, and partially because he couldn’t be fucked to tell the kid to piss off and he was hoping his glare was enough of a warning. The kid scanned the tavern, eyes locking with Husk’s. And instead of a hurried look away, as Husk was expecting from a timid child, the kid smiled. Or specifically, his smile grew wider. Husk nearly took a step back. The fuck? Creepy ass brat…

But Husk didn’t seem to be his target. The kid’s eyes continued to travel around the tavern until- Wait, was the kid fucking serious? Husk stopped cleaning his glass, frown deepening. This kid wasn’t going to talk to his boss, was he? It seemed to be where he was walking to… oh yup. The kid was now stopped in front of his boss’ table, as the slimy bastard had his hand down some whore’s dress. Husk sighed. The kid had balls, that’s for sure.

But it was none of his business. He couldn’t hear what they were saying anyway. He turned away to serve some half-wasted customers.

“HUSKER!”

… Did Husk mention that he wanted a drink? Because he really, really fucking needed it right now. With a growing headache, he left the bar and went to his boss’ table.

“What?” asked Husk. What he actually wanted to say was ‘What is this time, you fucking waste of air?’, but he liked having proper food and a bed. He eyed the young redhead, who didn’t spare him a glance. His unnerving smile was trained only on his boss who- woah, hold up. Husk raised an eyebrow. What did the little shit say to make his boss look  _ that _ mad?

“Teach the boy a lesson,” the man hissed, cheeks flushed dark from rage and alcohol.

Husk had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He grabbed the kid by the forearm, holding back some of his strength so that the kid wouldn’t be bruised in the morning. “Alright, c’mon ya little shit, time to leave.” The kid didn’t seem to respond to him. He was still looking only at his boss despite being roughly handled.

“Husker,” his boss said, voice low and trembling now. “Are you deaf? I didn’t tell you to get him out of here. I told you to teach him a  _ lesson _ .”

Husk’s head snapped up to stare at his boss, grip on the kid loosening. “What? Are you fucking with me?” he exclaimed, self-preservation all but leaping out the window. “Boss, he’s a kid.” He’d been asked to do a lot of fucked shit, but never raise a hand against A LITERAL CHILD. One hit would kill him.

“Sir, I only asked a question.” Husker now heard the kid’s voice for the first time. It was a little high-pitched because he was young, but it showed no fear. It was even, trained with a restraint that kids just shouldn’t have at that age. “Or was the question too hard? Should I make it simpler for you?”

… Ah. Now he understood why the bastard was fuming. He had to admit, he kinda impressed. Even a little jealous. He’d been wanting to sass the sentient bag of lard for ages.

“You little-! Husker!  _ Now _ .”

Ugh. Well. He didn’t feel like dying with the death of a kid on his conscience. He’d take the punishment, thanks. He’d let go of the kid completely and shook his head.

Seeing that, his boss stood, brandishing a glass bottle. “Fine, you useless  _ Weapon _ ! I have to do everything around here myself!”

Husk didn’t quite know what happened next, or why what happened next even happened. All he knew was that he suddenly heard the shattering of glass much closer than he should be hearing it. His head was suddenly pounding, his vision blurred slightly. He could feel blood. And he was very close to the kid now, so close that he could hear his tight breathing behind that permanently present smile. He then realised that his body had moved completely on its own. He’d shielded the boy from the blow.

“Oh, fuck me running…” grumbled Husk. So, he  _ was _ apparently stupid enough to stand up against the system. He cursed himself and his morals. He stood up and spun around to face his boss, who’d somehow turned even redder. His boss shouted something at him, but he was a little too disoriented to really hear him. Since he was in deep shit as is, he might as well see the whole thing through. He glanced behind him. The kid was looking at him completely now. Still smiling. Fuckin weirdo. But he did notice the smile had shrunk, and there was something different in his eyes. Fear? Made sense, he really was just a little boy. “I’ll hold him back, kid. Get outta here.”

He didn’t wait for a response. After all, the other patrons of the tavern had now noticed the commotion, and, enraged that a Weapon  _ dared _ disobey their owner, had started to surround them. He was a bit woozy on his feet, but he was by far the most sober adult in the room. He could buy the kid some time to scram.

He assumed that the continued screaming was a direction to charge him. Oh, yup, there the first asshole, going to make his move. He flexed his hands and, in a flash, clawed gauntlets with the lustre of deep obsidian formed on Husk’s hands, the tips of which were a dull golden colour. He twitched. Summoning them on himself always sucked. It was like his skin was being ripped right from his hands. He’d like to say he was used to it but… Nah, still sucked every single time.

He didn’t have much time to ruminate on how painful it was, though. He raised his fists to block the blow and braced himself.

It should be said that Weaponry are special because, unlike man-made weapons, they can utilize some form of magic. For example, they can become a flamethrower that can also create an icy blast, or a sword that doesn’t cut skin but instead sucks their enemies’ souls.

Husk’s ability is one he loathed. It allowed him to do hundreds of different kinds of magics, his punches could trigger effects that ranged from a psychic blast to even healing. So, why did he absolutely despise this power?

Well. He had no say on exactly  _ which _ effect would be triggered. It was a literal gamble every. Fucking. Time.

As soon as the man encountered the gauntlets, a wave of electricity burst out in a violent wave, knocking everyone directly in front of him back. They fell onto the floor, twitching from the electricity coursing through their veins. He was a little relieved. He appreciated it when his ability didn’t blow up the building. He turned to the others who were squaring off against him, hoping his display of power was enough to make them back off. Unfortunately, they seemed a little too drunk to make sane decisions and continued their onslaught towards him. Fucking damnit. He couldn’t take his eyes from his opponents, but he didn’t see the kid around anymore. Good, he must have left.

Or so he thought. After turning one man into a puddle (Husk didn’t want to think too deeply about that one) and sending a few more literally flying and unable to get down from the ceiling, he heard one of his boss’ whores shrieking. He turned, and he just… really wished he could wash away what he just saw.

His boss had a pistol aimed right at him. But that wasn’t a problem now, considering that his throat was pierced through with a leg of a broken stool. And on the other end of that broken stool leg was the kid. He wasn’t smiling anymore, frozen in place with the gravity of what he had just done.

Well, it sure was fucking time to go. He didn’t have time to process everything. But he knew he just… he couldn’t leave the kid after something like  _ that _ . He de-summoned a gauntlet, and, with a hand streaked with blood from his unhealed wounds, he grabbed and picked up the boy. With the other gauntlet, he punched a guy blocking them from the door (with no effect triggering, Husk really wished his powers would just make up their fucking mind), before bolting out into the night.

He didn’t keep track of how long ran. When he thought he was a reasonable distance from the ruined tavern, he de-summoned his other gauntlet so that he could have a better grip on the kid, and he just… kept running. He didn’t stop until he reached the other end of town and had gone a fair way into the forest. He finally set down the kid and collapsed onto the ground, panting.

What had he done? Like, what the  _ fuck _ had he just done? In a second, on what was pretty much a  _ whim _ , he’d made himself a wanted criminal. All because some kid came in to talk big to a man with a million times more power than any other person in town. His headache grew, with the blood slobbering out from the back of his head really not helping. Once he caught his breath, he looked up to where the kid should be in the darkness, ready to ask the little shit what the fuck he had been thinking-

But his rage fled when he saw the tiny figure in the darkness, curled up at the foot of a tree. He was hugging his knees, and he had his head buried in them. The pounding in Husk’s head subsided enough to notice that the kid was crying. Ah, fuck.

Husk didn’t particularly like kids. He didn’t hate them either, he just… didn’t have much of an opinion of them, he supposed? Which meant he had absolutely no idea what to do right now. He awkwardly scooted closer to the boy but kept some distance. He didn’t want to look like a fucking pedo, but he couldn’t just leave the kid be. He  _ did _ just kill someone. That… well he couldn’t imagine how that felt. And he killed that someone to save Husk’s ass too, so…

“Hey, uh… you got a home or somethin’, kid? Cuz I could… take you back…?” Husk tapered off his sentence, feeling like a moron. He didn’t wanna ask if he was okay or some dumb shit like that. He had  _ eyes  _ and  _ ears _ ; he could see he wasn’t okay. And he couldn’t comfort him because… how the fuck do you comfort a kid who just committed literal murder? ‘There there, it happens’? The fuck?

The kid didn’t respond. He just let out a soft sob. Husk grit his teeth. Hoo boy, he was really out of his element. “What about yer parents? I could-”

“… he took my momma…”

Husk blinked. “Eh?”

The boy looked up at him. At this point, Husk’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness to make out just… how much smaller the boy seemed to be now. “My pa’s gone and my momma… A man…” The boy’s voice was no longer even and measured, he… he really sounded like a lost and terrified child now. “He came and took my momma, and said he was gonna sell her. I… they said she came here and… I just…” He became too choked up in his own sobbing to continue.

Ah fuck. Ah shit. Husk’s now ex-boss was a slave trader. Which meant this kid, his mom’s a Weapon who must have passed through his business, and…  _ fuck _ . What the fuck should he do? Take him to an orphanage? No, he just  _ killed _ someone. Besides, what would he say to the orphanage? He, a Weapon, found some kid and was leaving him there? He doubted very much that the owners of most orphanages would be as inclined to believe him as his own orphanage’s matron was. She was a one in a million.

Besides, the kid had the balls to go to this town and face off with a slave trader  _ by himself.  _ That confidence, that sheer stupidity, had nearly sent him to an early grave. And there was no guarantee that the kid wouldn’t do it again. Husk couldn’t have that on his conscience. But he… he couldn’t take care of a kid! He’s in his twenties! He has no fucking clue how to raise a child! He looked around, as though looking for someone to help.

The darkness stared back at him. It reminded him that he was the only adult here. The only one who  _ could _ do something.

Fuck his fucking conscience and his stupid fucking morals.

He scooted closer again, this time reaching out and rubbing the kid’s back. He seemed to flinch at his touch, but he didn’t move away. Perhaps he didn’t have the strength to anymore. Husk swallowed dryly. “I could… uh… f-… I could help ya find her. Yer momma.”

“… really, mister…?” He couldn’t see his features well in the dark, but he could imagine the expression he had on. It was all in is voice, the mixture of despair and hope. It was so fragile; Husk briefly worried that he may shatter it.

Husk bit back a sigh. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’ll help ya.” Fuck it, it wasn’t like he had any other plans. Nothing else he had to commit to.

He jolted in surprise when suddenly a small pair of hands gripped him close. The boy had buried his face in his shirt and began crying even harder than before. Husk hesitantly reached around the kid and rubbed his back while giving him a sort of embrace. He couldn’t imagine the flood of emotions that the boy was letting out. Letting him cry was the least he could do, he supposed.

Soon enough, the boy fell quiet. Husk glanced to his side. Yeah, he was fast asleep. Husk pulled him a little closer, since it was getting cold. While the kid dying of hypothermia would solve his problem of figuring out how to take care of a kid, he wasn’t exactly thrilled with that solution. His own fatigue threatened to send him into a deep slumber too, but his mind was racing. How were they gonna survive? Where were they going to find food? And they needed new clothes too, and they needed money and-

And Husk just… really needed a drink.

~o~

Alastor was… a real dickhead, to put it mildly. He was cunning and intelligent and could talk his way into as much shit as he’d managed to talk himself out of. He discovered and ruined slave operations with cold efficiency and a well-practiced smile. Though Alastor wasn’t as physically strong as Husk was, his own insane discipline, combined with Husk’s training, had turned him into a force to be reckoned with in battle. He loved theatrical carnage, he adored the adrenaline of being pursued, he lavished in the screams of despair.

And yet, Husk was constantly reminded that this dickhead was just a teenager. Even with his never-fading smile, Husk had learned to detect his mood swings. He’d learned when he needed to be left alone, he’d learned when he needed to be reprimanded for the stupid shit he pulled, he’d learned when he just wanted to be around someone or to be listened to. As guarded as he was, Alastor was still a teen just trying to figure out… a lot of stuff.

Husk also couldn’t bring himself to leave the dickhead. It was… amazing to watch him grow. To watch him learn the things Husk had imparted to him, like the skills to survive or to battle, and get better at it. To watch him find out the things he likes, the things he didn’t like. To watch him through his successes and mistakes… Despite all the bullshit and trouble, Husk found that staying with Alastor, after watching his back for these years, was rather rewarding.

Although, right now, he wasn’t finding taking care of this moron rewarding  _ at all _ .

“You said you were just going to do recon!” Husk screamed, skidding as he turned a corner. A bullet whizzed past, a bit too close for comfort.

While running by his side, Alastor grinned at him. Well, he was always grinning at him. But this grin was more shit-eating that usual. “Ah, but Husker, my dear friend! I did do reconnaissance, exactly as I said I would! I just didn’t mention that I was  _ also _ going to destroy their files and a few other rooms of operation at the same time! Think of it as… an added bonus.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Alastor?!”

“No, I don’t believe I am.”

It was a good thing he couldn’t strangle him while running. He’d just have to save that for later.

He really didn’t want to hear Alastor speak again, but he was a little faster than Husk, and therefore saw what was ahead before he could. “Hm, it appears we have a small issue.”

“Wha- Ah fucking gODDAM-” Alastor had pulled Husk into the alley that they were funnelled into to avoid another bullet. Unfortunately, this alley was a dead end. They’d been run into this place on purpose.

“Hm,” was all Alastor said in response to Husk’s half-finished profanity. Husk could see it in his eyes; he was replaying all the parts of the plan he’d concocted, amending it so that in the future he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Not that that would help them if they couldn’t get out.

Husk flexed a hand, but Alastor grabbed his wrist. He’d been brought out of his thoughts by that motion. He knew very well that Husk only did that when he was going to pull out his gauntlets. In a sense, Husk was touched. Though Husk had never mentioned how painful it was to pull out his gloves for himself to use, Alastor had been a perceptive kid. Quietly and discreetly, Alastor made sure that his antics had a very low chance of requiring Husk to use his powers. Though, he’d never admit that that was a part of his calculations.

But the chance was always there. In this instance they gambled, and they lost. Husk gave him a steely look. ‘You know we don’t have a choice’ is what the look said. Alastor met his eyes, and then let go of his wrist, his eyes briefly closing with a tight smile. As tame as a reaction that may be, that was how he showed immense frustration, Husk found.

They both broke into a run once more, heading towards the dead end. Husk summoned one of his gauntlets, gritting his teeth as the dreadfully familiar feeling of melting skin assaulted his hand. Alastor kept somewhat of a distance from him, because he really didn’t fancy being blown away by accident.

Husk drove his fist into the wall with the full force of a punch. Thankfully, his powers weren’t fucking around with him today. At his touch, an intense stream of water built up and blasted a large segment of the wall away. He jumped through the hole it made, with Alastor following closely behind him.

They found themselves in a small, and now very destroyed square. The chunks of the wall had crushed some of the nearby buildings, and, judging by the red mixing in with excessive amount of water, some people too. There was dead silence as everyone was too stunned to react to whatever the hell had just happened.

“Well, I thought that was a wonderful performance!”

“Oh, shut up.”

The confused screaming began from all sides, which was their cue to get the hell out of there. So further into the city they ran, until they shook off their pursuers.

They found a fairly run down and abandoned building to take shelter in, until the heat from the soldiers passed, at least. Honestly, they had done this so many times that they weren’t too out of breath. They sat in the silence of companionship. Alastor would usually be quite chatty, but Husk knew how much he hated making mistakes, how much he hated not being in control. He was definitely sitting there, replaying everything in his mind, calculating what he could have done, what he should have done, to have made the plan a 100% success. He would start his incessant chatter once he was done.

Husk de-summoned his gauntlet and inspected the damage. The same amount of bleeding and bruising as it always did. Still hurt like a bitch, though. He reached behind him for the red cloth he kept and wrapped his hand in it, waiting for his natural regeneration to take its course. Alastor spared him a glance but made no comment. They knew each other well enough to know which topics to not breach. A concerned look and a silent response were enough of an exchange when it came to these topics.

The silence was broken with the sounds of metal against leather sheaths, as they readied their weapons. They both had been in this vigilante-like life for a long time. They knew the sounds of an intruder when they heard one.

Alastor got to his feet, gripping his rapier with deceptively looseness. It would take him only a moment to get into form and aim true. He knew where to stab to give the quickest death, and where to stab to give the most painful. And he tended to choose the most painful. His voice sounded like a honeytrap as he called into the depths of the building, “Now sweetheart, don’t you think it’s rude to hide? Come now, we’re just two, completely reasonable men who would  _ love _ a little chat.”

Husk snorted. ‘Completely reasonable’. Sure.

For a while, there was no response. Husk rolled his eyes as he felt the bloodlust grow in Alastor. Alastor didn’t want this person to come out, although he had been the one to suggest it. He was looking for ‘fun’. Honestly, he needed to learn how to calm the fuck down, especially with his hormones making him react even more like a weirdo than he should. But Husk wasn’t gonna get in his way. The fate of this stranger really wasn’t his concern.

When the young girl appeared from the shadows, Husk did an immediate 180 on his stance. This was now of more concern than not at all. Alastor, for his part, seemed to lose a great amount of interest, with his bloodlust completely disappearing. For all the fucked up things he did, Alastor didn’t hurt kids. It’s one of the things that Husk was relieved he’d managed to drill into his mind. They both sheathed their weapons. It wasn’t that they weren’t on guard, but they both felt that even if she were to attack them, they could deal with it quick enough.

This girl had messy, dark pink hair, curled into strange clumps due to the lack of care. Her clothes were in a worse condition, rough from use, damaged from a lack of cleaning, faded from the sun. She looked far more like a strange, sickly creature than a child. Which made sense, as she, if the Weaponry Mark that adorned her neck like an ornate piece of cursed jewellery was any indication, was a slave.

“Hello!” Alastor zipped to her with startling speed and grace, taking her hand in a firm, rapid handshake. Then he spun her around and began pushing her out the door. “Now I’m sorry for being rude but now isn’t the best time for a meeting, darling. Find us another time, maybe!”

“ えと。。。！ちょっと待って下さい！ ” the girl squeaked, digging in her heels a little. “I… want to be with you!”

“Flattering, really,” Alastor piped cheerfully, clearly not giving a damn.

“Stop being a dick, Alastor,” growled Husk. He paused to remember lessons from long, long ago. “ _ What do you mean, you want to be with us?”  _ he asked, slipping into the girl’s language.

That stopped Alastor in his tracks. Feeling the pushing stop, the girl sped away from the red-clad teen, and beelined for Husk with an even more remarkable speed than Alastor had possessed. Alastor seemed to regard the girl’s speed a, before smiling at Husk. “My dear fellow, I didn’t know you could speak another language.”

“Just something I picked up from school.”

“Ah, of course. I’d forgotten you knew how to read.”

“Fuck off.”

The little girl was looking up at Husk. He read hope and relief in those too wide eyes. “ _ Hi, mister! _ ” she chirped, the nervousness of having to speak an unfamiliar language washing off her. “ _ I meant that I want to join you two! I saw both of you in the square. You know, my owner was reaaaaally mad at me cuz I cut the wrong flowers. He was gonna punish me, when suddenly WOOOSH! A big rock comes outta nowhere and squishes him like a bug, then you both appeared, and I was like woooah. You both were just doing whatever you wanted, and it looked like so much fun! So, can I join you? Huh? Please? I won’t be bother, I promise! I can do a lot of things! _ ”

“…” Husk looked up at Alastor, who, although he understood none of that, looked greatly amused. “She said she wants to join us.”

“Yes, I gathered that. Did she say anything else?”

“… Not really.” Husk waited for Alastor to finish laughing, before continuing. Husk didn’t understand why his curtness was so funny to the boy, but he does him, he supposed. “What do you think?”

“Hmm… I must say that I really don’t care!” Which was an active lie, thought Husk. They both saw her speed. And she’d managed to track them down as the soldiers floundered about like fools. The girl would be an interesting ally. He knew Alastor was interested; that half-lidded smile let his true thoughts leak far more than he thought they did. Husk just didn’t care about calling him out. “It would be up to you, friend. Do you feel like babysitting?”

Husk was about to retort that he’d been ‘babysitting’ Alastor for years, but he didn’t feel like arguing for no reason. Besides, he had a point. This girl was rather small, she maybe just a little older than Alastor when he’d first met him. He’s helping Alastor because the kid had been, and in a sense still was, all alone. Whatever abilities she may possess, she was still a kid. And they got into some… wacky shit all the time. Making sure Alastor didn’t get executed was one thing, dragging someone else into that life was just…

“ _ We’re not a recruitment service, kid, _ ” Husk said finally to the girl, who had been waiting patiently for an answer. “ _ The shi- uh, things we do are dangerous, not ‘fun’. You need to go somewhere else. _ ”

He saw the cracks in her bubbly demeanour. The light in her eyes dimmed and her smile wavered. She was fidgeting with her dress, as she said something that Husk didn’t want to hear. “ _ But mister, where would I go? _ ”

For Weaponry like her- like  _ them _ , he corrected, remembering the shared curse in his own blood- the only fate in this kingdom was to be continuously sold, used, until the day they died. And she was foreign too, her family was no doubt hundreds of miles away, across the border. She hadn’t even asked for them to help her go back home or find her family, so he suspected that she didn’t want to or couldn’t go back home. Wouldn’t be a far stretch to assume they’d either sold her or that they just… weren’t around anymore.

So no, she didn’t have anywhere to go, and the only other fate that he could send her to was a life of servitude. He groaned. Fuck, why was he so fucking soft.

“… Alastor.”

“Yeeees?”

“You really don’t care if she joins us?”

His smile grew wider. “Not one bit.” Fucking liar. He wanted to use whatever abilities she may have for his stupid plans. It was written all over his face. Husk would have to talk to him later about not sending this kid into death traps…

“Then she’s joining us.” He looked to the girl again. She seemed to have some grasp of their language, because her eyes were shining once more. “ _ You get that? You can stay, kid.” _

She squealed and tackled Husk, squeezing him in a tight hug. He bristled a little, but he couldn’t say he didn’t expect this. He sighed and went to pat her on the head, but before he could, she was gone. She had gone over to race to Alastor to tackle-hug him as well, but Alastor lithely dodged the loving assault. Guy still couldn’t stand being touched, even if he was the private-space invading fucker himself.

The girl didn’t seem too disturbed by her missed attack, though. She bounced in place, energy almost sparking off her. “ _ Thank you, thank you, thank you! _ Thank you!” she made sure to add in the common language, so that Alastor could understand. “ _ You won’t regret it, mister! I can cook, and clean- I really love cleaning! You know, both of your clothes are really dirty. Did you want me to take care of that? Oh, and you can use me as a weapon too, I don’t mind! When are we gonna make another explosion? I turn into scissors, so I don’t think I can make things go BOOM like you did, but I can do other things!” _

“I’m fairly sure I already regret this…” Husker mumbled as the girl chattered on. He made no attempts to stop her though. Being a slave meant they didn’t get too talk much. That didn’t bother Husk too much in his own brief stint as a slave, since he wasn’t talkative anyway. But for a young kid like her? Well, this new freedom must have been like opening the dam gates. And she looked so happy; he’d feel like the world’s biggest asshole to stop her now.

“Oh, don’t be so negative!” said Alastor, suddenly standing by Husk as the seated man tended to his still wounded hand. “I for one think that our lives are going to become a lot more entertaining.”

~o~

“Do you even know what a heart attack is, Alastor?”

The last few months had been hectic. They’d joined forces with the runaway princess of their kingdom, semi-formally establishing a vigilante group who helped other Weaponry from abuse and slavery. It was a headache and a half because their group was a mess of strong personalities that constantly clashed. One day it could be Alastor and Charlie arguing over some plan, and the next it would be Vaggie and Angel having a yelling match over the assignment of chores.

And yet, Husk didn’t find himself minding all that much. He wouldn’t admit this out loud, but these kids… they were alright. They fought, they made mistakes, and they grew stronger. He’d been with them as they laughed and cried. He’d almost forgotten what it was like not being surrounded by these young idiots.

“Yes, I do know what it is! I am fairly sure I’m having one right now.” Alastor’s smile was tight, which was the closest expression he had to a frown. He had his hand on his chest, as though testing for this so-called heart attack.

Husk rolled his eyes and took a swig from his bottle, before saying, “Yer fucking not having a heart attack, dumbass. Yer crushing on Angel. That’s literally all it is.” He gestured at the rest of the group with the bottle.

The girls and Angel were together at some distance from them. Niffty was showing Charlie how to sew and mend her clothes. Husk had to hand it to her, she was taking this whole ‘understanding her subjects’ thing real seriously. Her tongue was sticking out as she messily prodded the needle into her garments. Angel was hovering over her, grinning smugly as he pointed out her mistakes. Husk and Alastor couldn’t quite hear what the man had said, but it was enough to make Vaggie start yelling at him.

“Nonsense! I don’t feel anything of the sort for  _ anyone _ , let alone Angel.” And yet, when the sound of Angel’s laughter wafted over to them, Husk noted a light flush growing on Alastor’s cheeks.

“Suuure.” Husk gave a small smile to himself, inspecting the contents of his bottle as he felt Alastor’s glare pierce into him. It was a little fucking weird, but it was nice seeing Alastor act his age. Like an awkward twenty-something, instead of acting like the charming but fucked murder-y person he usually was. In fact, it was nice to see them all being able to act their age. Husk looked up at the rest of the group. These barely-adults who’d had their youths stripped from them, who were now spilling blood over something they shouldn’t have to fight for… it was nice to see them having fun.

Husk scratched the back of his head. For fucks sake, when did he go that soft?

“It is  _ not _ a crush,” Alastor said firmly. Husk waved his hand dismissively. “But onto another matter. We’ll be heading into town soon!”

“Mm.”

“I’ve already compiled a list of businesses to… investigate.” Husk wasn’t looking at him at that moment, but he could hear the vitriolic smile in his tone. “Do you have any preferences as to whom we should visit first, my dear friend?”

Husk thought for a bit. He still watched the rest of their group. Charlie cheered as she’d managed to successful stitch up her garment, but the force of which she’d thrown her hands in the air had caused the thread to snap and the stitches to come undone. Angel and Niffty shared in a chorus of laughter as Vaggie comforted the now distraught princess. Alastor was watching them too; Husk noted the slight gentleness in his eyes.

Husk had never thought he’d be surrounded by such warmth, by genuine smiles, by people who he’d quietly fight for and who would fight for him with equal, unspoken intensity. He couldn’t even begin to express what he felt, so he decided to not commit anything to words. If he had tried to predict the path his life would have taken, he wouldn’t have even come close. His life was formed into a remarkably strange shape; distorted in many places, completely whole in others. That didn’t feel like a bad thing.

“I’ll go wherever ya all decide. I trust you.”


End file.
